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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22798027">Time is Fluid</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whedonista93/pseuds/Whedonista93'>Whedonista93</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age Regression/De-Aging, Canon Compliant, F/M, Magic, Post-Canon, Post-Episode: s07e22 Chosen, Redemption, ignores the comics</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 18:35:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,529</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22798027</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whedonista93/pseuds/Whedonista93</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Buffy’s mouth forms a tight line and she raises an eyebrow and points toward the door. “I could kiss the next guy who walks in and you couldn’t do a thing about it.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rupert Giles/Buffy Summers, Spike/Buffy Summers (past)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>97</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Kudos to the best beta eevvvvvveeeeerrrrrr <a>aggiepuff</a></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Buffy taps her fingers on the table and glares across it at Spike. A college-geared pub in the middle of Oxford isn’t exactly the first pick for either of them, but it’s neutral ground, and theoretically too public for a throw down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Spike rolls his eyes. “Oh, come off it, luv.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buffy’s glare intensifies.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Spike grins, slow and easy. “Oh, if looks could stake, pet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m still mad at you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And yet here you are, at a pub with me, alone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For you to explain yourself. And the not-being-dead. Or not-being-undead… ugh! Explain the still existing and not telling me. I’ve spent the last two and half years thinking you were burnt to ash in the crater that was Sunnydale.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Spike shrugs. “Your little amulet had a few tricks up its sleeve.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That explains the not being ash. It does not explain you not telling me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another shrug. “Thought I’d give you a while to pine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pine?” Buffy nearly screeches. She winces when it draws attention and lowers her voice. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>mourned</span>
  </em>
  <span> for you. And then I moved on.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Moved on, eh? Don’t see one of your usual cookie cutters hangin’ off your arm.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buffy’s mouth forms a tight line and she raises an eyebrow and points toward the door. “I could kiss the next guy who walks in and you couldn’t do a thing about it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Spike snorts. “Believe that when I see it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buffy’s eyes narrow and she turns her focus entirely to the door, intentionally ignoring Spike. She feels her lips curl up when the door swings open to admit the next patron. He’s tall, with dark tousled hair and a hoop through his left ear. She can’t tell what color his eyes are from this far, but she can see the glint of awareness as he takes in the room. Scuffed black boots, well worn jeans, a band tee she vaguely recognizes from one of Giles’ countless records, and a leather jacket cover a visibly fit frame, and he carries himself with a dangerous grace Buffy has come to appreciate over the years. He briefly meets her eyes. The immediate attraction and pull catches her off guard, but she smiles welcomingly. He inclines his head in brief acknowledgment before sauntering toward the bar.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buffy shoots a brief glance at Spike, raising an eyebrow in challenge. He rolls his eyes, disbelief clear on his face. Buffy rolls her eyes back and throws the remainder of her cocktail back then stands from the table. Spike makes a noise of protest, but she ignores him and winds her way through the crowd toward the bar. She rests a hand on the hot guy’s shoulder. He turns, lips already rising in a wry grin. Buffy goes up on tiptoe, wrapping her other hand around his neck and twining her fingers in the hair brushing his neck. “Sorry to ask like this, but kiss me?” She whispers. To her surprise, and delight, he simply wraps an arm around her waist and kisses her. It actually makes her toes curl.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That,” he whispers, still against her lips, “will never be something to apologize for, dear girl.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buffy blinks back to awareness slowly, looking up into green eyes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Familiar</span>
  </em>
  <span> green eyes. She barely refrains herself from jerking backwards. “Giles?!”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Giles’ arms remain around her, but he frowns. “I’m sorry, have we met? I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>quite</span>
  </em>
  <span> certain I would remember you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buffy frowns. “So you </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> Rupert Giles?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shrugs lightly. “Not that most people actually call me that, but yes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you don’t know me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His grin is more than a little suggestive. “Not that I wouldn’t like to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That startles a laugh out of her, before she can slap a hand over her mouth to cut it off. “Okay, here is </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> not the place for this conversation.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tilts his head at her, a curious expression on his face. “I get the strangest feeling I would follow you anywhere.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She can’t help but smile at that. She extricates herself from his embrace, but keeps a hold of his hand. She tilts her head toward the booth she was sharing with Spike. “I need to grab my jacket.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nods and follows easily. Spike is staring at them with his mouth open in shock. Buffy reaches over one-handed to snag her jacket. On a whim, and if she’s being honest, just to be a bitch, she leans over far enough to smack a kiss on the vampire’s cheek, then turns and waves over her shoulder and leaves without a word.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Giles releases her long enough for her to slip her jacket on, then drapes his arm over her shoulder. They walk in silence for several minutes before he clears his throat. “Not that I mind regardless, but where are we going?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um… where are you staying?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stops, then frowns. “Actually, I’m not sure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What were you doing, before you came to the pub?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His frown deepens. “Woke up in an alley… unfortunately not that unusual. Before that… buggered if I know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buffy frowns back, then groans and rolls her eyes. “Of course you’d be salty goodness in your Ripper days,” she mutters, then raises her voice enough for him to hear. “Okay, so… are we pre or post Eyghon here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He trips and stutters, surprise evident on his face, and shame, but only minimal guilt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buffy nods, his expression telling enough. “Right in the middle of it, then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stops mid stride. “I’m sorry, but who the bloody hell are you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She turns enough to look up at him in the meager light of the street lamps, momentarily debating how to answer. “My name is Buffy. I’m your Slayer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shakes his head. “I left the bloody Council.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buffy smiles softly at that. “What year is it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shrugs. “Seventy-something.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shakes her head and steps away from him. “It’s 2006.” She pulls out her cell phone and calls Giles’ flat. No answer. His cell phone. No answer. His office at the new Council building. No answer. “Okay, come on.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where?” He asks, beginning to sound a little lost.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Giles’ apartment.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How do I know you’re not having me on? That all this is actually…” He trails off, waving vaguely with his hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She looks up at him again and thinks for a moment. “When you were a kid, you wanted to be a fighter pilot.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His expression softens. “I wouldn’t have told just anyone that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She steps back into his space. “No, you wouldn’t have.” She holds out a hand. “Come with me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He takes her hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She flips her phone open again with her free hand, dials Willow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The witch answers with a sleepy, “Hello?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Will, sorry to wake you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘S all good. What’s up?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you meet me at Giles’ place? We’ve got a kind of weird emergency.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah, on my way. Everyone okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buffy side eyes Giles, who grins and slings his arm back over her shoulders. “No physical harm,” she answers carefully.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll meet you there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See ya in a few.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They walk in silence for a few minutes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually Buffy rolls her eyes. “I can feel you frowning at me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She feels more than hears his sigh. “The longer I look at you, the more of a headache I get, and despite that, I can’t seem to stop.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buffy shrugs. “Hopefully Will can come up with some kind of explanation.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who’s this Will person?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Best friend. Also, resident witch. If anyone can figure out what kind of whammy we’re dealing with, it’ll be her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right… 2006, you said?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buffy hums something vaguely affirmative sounding.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, here… in your time, the me you know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing like this you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not… what was it you said? ‘Salty goodness’?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buffy blushes. “Didn’t realize you heard that… uh, I mean, yeah, in an old guy kind of way, I guess, but… well, it wasn’t like that between us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re allowing an awful lot of… liberties if it wasn’t ‘like that’, as you say.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Starting off with a kiss like that may have muddled my brain a bit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He chuckles. “Not that I’m complaining about that, but what, precisely, was that about anyway?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buffy groans. “Simple version or longer story?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How long’s the walk?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buffy glances up at the nearest street sign. “About two miles.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Middling?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She smiles. “There was this guy…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The one in the pub with you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She nods.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Vampire, wasn’t he?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buffy nods and finds herself explaining, in more detail than she ever did to her Giles, her history with Spike, from first fight, to first kiss, to that final battle at the Hellmouth. “I found out a few weeks ago he was still alive. Tonight was for him to explain. Both how and why he never told me. It somehow devolved into him assuming I spent the last few years pining over him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you felt the need to challenge that notion.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Something like that.” She gestures to the building they’re in front of. “We’re here.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Giles wanders around the apartment, absently picking up books and poking his head into closets. “Turned into a right posh git, didn’t I?”</p><p>Buffy giggles and hands him a teacup. “A bit, but you’re still pretty great.”</p><p>“You sound rather fond.” He takes a sip of the tea, rather unsurprised to find that it’s made perfectly, and impulsively kisses her cheek.</p><p>She reaches up and brushes her thumb down his jawline. “I would’ve died years ago, or still been bearing the weight of the world on my shoulders by myself if it wasn’t for Giles. I wouldn’t be here, much less be who I am, without him.”</p><p>“Giles… bloody hell, you really call me Giles?”</p><p>“I’m not sure what to call <em> you</em>, but the Giles in my time… yeah, I call him Giles. And I <em> can’t </em> call you Ripper.”</p><p>“I’m not even sure what to ask you to call me. Rupert, I suppose.”</p><p>Buffy smiles softly. “I think I can do that.”</p><p>“Buffy!” Willow’s voice calls.</p><p>“Kitchen!” Buffy calls back, pulling her hand away.</p><p>Willow appears in the doorway a moment later. “What’s the emerg- oh. Who’s your friend?”</p><p>“Giles,” Buffy deadpans.</p><p>Willow blinks, then does a double take. “Oh, goddess… how?”</p><p>Buffy shrugs. “Hoping you can figure that out.”</p><p>Willow nods slowly. “What do we know?”</p><p>“I haven’t talked to our Giles since yesterday morning. This Giles woke up a few hours ago in an alley, has no memory of us, thought it was the seventies, and gets a headache when he looks at me.”</p><p>Willow tilts her head. “What kind of headache?”</p><p>Rupert shrugs. “Like when you can’t remember something that you know you should remember. As if there are shadows dancing at the edges of memory.” He taps his fingers against the counter. “What I wouldn’t give for a fag right now…”</p><p>Buffy bites her lip, then shrugs and hops up on the counter, digging into the very back of the cabinet above the fridge and emerging with a slightly rumpled pack of cigarettes, which she tosses to him.</p><p>He groans appreciatively and taps one out, lighting it with an absent minded incantation. “Bless you, woman.”</p><p>She rolls her eyes and points toward the door out to the small balcony. “No smoking in the house.”</p><p>He rolls his eyes back, but steps outside obligingly.</p><p>Willow is watching them contemplatively.</p><p>Buffy shakes her head. “Don’t ask. Theories?”</p><p>Willow bites her lip. “De-aging and a memory block. Time travel, maybe… we need to figure out if our Giles is still on this plane or if he’s gone. Whatever it is… it’s strong magic.”</p><p>Buffy nods. “How do we find out?”</p><p>“Spells. Giles may have one or two books here, but most of what I need is going to be at the Council building.”</p><p>“Okay. Go ahead. We’ll meet you there in a bit.”</p><p>“Is it just me, or is young Giles kinda hot?”</p><p>Buffy blushes.</p><p>Willow’s eyes go wide. “What is that face for?”</p><p>Buffy glances furtively out the window toward the balcony, then leans toward Willow and lowers her voice. “I kissed him at the pub before I realized who he was.”</p><p>Willow’s eyes go even wider. “What?! Weren’t you meeting Spike tonight?”</p><p>“It’s his fault,” Buffy mutters mutinously.</p><p>“How was it?”</p><p>Buffy blushes again.</p><p>Willow’s eyes gleam. “You wanna do it again don’t you?”</p><p>Buffy groans. “Will, I wanna climb him like a tree.”</p><p>Willow laughs. “Oh, this is great.”</p><p>“Shut up, he’s coming!”</p><p>Rupert comes back in, smelling faintly like smoke and looking slightly more relaxed. “What did I miss?”</p><p>Buffy looks up at him. “We’re thinking spell-”</p><p>“Or curse,” Willow interjects.</p><p>“Along the lines of time travel or de-aging.”</p><p>“Maybe, probably, a little memory alteration thrown in for flavor.”</p><p>Rupert grimaces. “Lovely.”</p><p>Willow grimaces back sympathetically. “I’m heading to the Council building to start some research.”</p><p>His face goes stony.</p><p>Buffy reaches out and rests a hand on his arm. “Our Council isn’t the Council you know. Someone did us the twisted favor of blowing them up a few years ago. We’ve spent the last couple years rebuilding it our way.”</p><p>“Fascinating.”</p><p>Buffy squeezes his arm. “So, Will is gonna go. We’ll see what books our Giles has here and meet her there when one of us finds something.”</p><p>Rupert nods and leans into her. “This whole thing is giving me a bloody headache.”</p><p>She wraps her arm around his waist. “We’ll figure it out. We always do.”</p><p><em> Okay, </em> <b> <em>what</em> </b> <em> is with the touchy feely? </em> Willow asks her telepathically.</p><p><em> I don’t know, </em> Buffy mentally groans, <em> but I can’t seem to stop. I was </em> <b> <em>not</em> </b> <em> kidding about wanting to climb him. </em></p><p>Willow makes a face.</p><p>Buffy shrugs apologetically.</p><p>“Okay, I’m going,” Willow declares. “We’ve gotta figure this out. And Buffy?”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Make him change before you bring him to the Council unless you want the minis to have a reaction akin to yours.”</p><p>“Akin to - <em> oh</em>, yeah, uh, changing good.”</p><p>“Why do I feel like I missed something?” Rupert asks as Willow retreats, door not quite slamming behind her.</p><p>Buffy shakes her head. “I’m still too buzzy for this. I vote food.” She extricates herself from under his arm and opens the fridge, emerging triumphantly with leftover cartons of Chinese a moment later. She passes one to Rupert and digs forks out of a drawer. They eat in silence, then Buffy digs out the coffee she keeps stashed behind his tea. She hops up on the counter and he keeps blessedly silent until she downs half a mug. </p><p>“Better?”</p><p>She nods. “Yeah.”</p><p>He steps up into her space. “Still want to climb me like a tree?”</p><p>Buffy blushes. “You hear a lot of things you shouldn’t.”</p><p>He shrugs unapologetically and rests his hands on her thighs. “Didn’t quite close the patio door.”</p><p>Buffy isn’t sure which of them moves first, but the next thing she knows, his hands are on her hips, her arms are wrapped around his shoulders, and their lips are fused together again, with just as much heat between them as there was in the pub earlier. She pulls back when she needs to breathe. “We really shouldn’t.”</p><p>“Why not?” He asks, forehead resting against hers.</p><p>“What if it’s some side effect of a spell?”</p><p>He opens his eyes to look into hers. “Do you think it is?”</p><p>She shakes her head. “You still <em> feel </em> like my Giles, ya know, to my Slayer side. But I never wanted to… ya know, with my Giles.”</p><p>“From my understanding, your Giles, as you’re referring to me, him, whichever… was old enough to be your father.”</p><p>“And two of the three serious boyfriends I’ve had celebrated bicentennials,” Buffy deadpans.</p><p>Rupert draws back, confusion clear.</p><p>Buffy winces. “I dated a couple vampires.” She holds up a hand to cut him off when he opens his mouth. “Long stories.”</p><p>“Right. That Spike fellow. Ah, well… I gather they didn’t look their ages.”</p><p>Buffy snorts. “No.”</p><p>“I imagine that this,” he gestures to himself, “is rather different than the body you’re used to.”</p><p>Buffy runs her hands down his shoulders and over his arms appreciatively. “Very.”</p><p>He chuckles.</p><p>“Wait!” Buffy frowns and shoves him back slightly. “Are you calling me shallow?”</p><p>He smirks teasingly. “If the shoe fits.”</p><p>She whacks his shoulder lightly. “Okay, look, let’s just…” She pauses, takes a deep breath and gathers her thoughts. “Let’s find the books and go meet Will. We’ll sort this out and then maybe figure out this,” she gestures between them, “after we know it’s not some magicky trickery.”</p><p>“That… that sounds wise.”</p><p>They dig through every shelf in the apartment, pulling out every book in any language either of them recognizes that has to do with memory or age or timelines, dump them all into a duffel bag, and make for the door. Buffy stops in her tracks halfway through the door, fast enough that Giles runs into her back. “You need to change!”</p><p>“Pardon?”</p><p>She turns around, shoves him back into the apartment. “You need to change.”</p><p>“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”</p><p>She eyes him appreciatively. “From where I’m standing, absolutely nothing. But I’m feeling a bit possessive and Will was not wrong about the fact that half the minis will want to climb you as bad as I do with you looking like that.”</p><p>“Minis?”</p><p>Buffy bites her lip. “Right. Uh, so, there’s not just one Slayer anymore. We kinda turned that on its head a couple years ago. Did a spell. Made all the Potentials full Slayers.”</p><p>“That’s… well, quite phenomenal, actually.”</p><p>Buffy beams proudly.</p><p>Rupert staunchly refuses to touch any of the tweed jackets, but eventually they agree on a pair of tan slacks and a dark blue button up. Buffy can’t help but stare when he unselfconsciously strips down to his boxers. A scar on his chest catches her eye and she steps forward, hand raising to it on instinct.</p><p>He frowns down at it. “I don’t know where that came from.”</p><p>“I do,” Buffy whispers.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>By some stroke of good luck, they make it all the way to Giles’ office without running into any minis. Willow is cross-legged on the floor in front of the fireplace, surrounded by books. She barely spares them a glance when they walk in. Buffy goes and plops down on the floor across from her, Giles slotting in behind her, bracketing her with his legs, like he belongs there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Any luck?” Buffy asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Willow shrugs without looking up from her book.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think de-aging is more likely than time-travel, if that helps,” Buffy says slowly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Willow looks up at that. “How do you figure?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buffy nudges Rupert back with her elbow and turns enough to unbutton his shirt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Woah!” Willow protests.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buffy rolls her eyes and tugs the shirt apart to reveal the scar in the middle of his chest. “Do you remember when Ethan Rayne turned Giles into a Fyarl demon?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ethan did what?!” Rupert exclaims.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Willow’s eyes go wide. “And you stabbed him in the chest. So he’s our Giles?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buffy nods. “I think so. Just… in a twenty-something body, with no memory of the last… thirtyish years?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Willow starts to nod, then freezes mid-motion. “You don’t think Ethan…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buffy frowns. “Don’t we have him on some kind of watchlist?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Willow nods. “Yeah. Local coven should notify us when he’s in the area.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who gets notified?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“G-Giles.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buffy shoots to her feet and crosses the room to start rifling through his desk. She straightens, grasping a piece of parchment, with a triumphant shout. “Coven notified him… shit, yesterday afternoon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Willow frowns. “You don’t think he would’ve… nevermind. He totally would’ve gone to meet him on his own.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So we need to find Ethan.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Unfortunately.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Buffy kicks open the door to the third shitty motel of the night. “Finally!”</p><p>Ethan leaps to his feet. “Slayer.”</p><p>“I have been looking all over the damn city for you.” She scrunches her nose. “Powers, you look <em> old</em>. Nevada was not kind to you, was it?”</p><p>“Flattery will get you everywhere.”</p><p>She rolls her eyes and stalks forward, grabs him by the ear, and drags him out the door and to the waiting Council car. “One wrong move, and I will knock your ass out. I don’t even want to hear you speak. Capiche?”</p><p>Blessedly, he just nods. Surprisingly, he actually keeps his mouth shut all the way to the Council headquarters.</p><p>Rupert looks up from his desk when they enter the office, then does an immediate double take. “Ethan?! Bloody hell, you got old, mate!”</p><p>Ethan gapes. “Bloody hell, Ripper… I’m better than I thought.”</p><p>Buffy shoves him, none to gently, into a chair across from the desk. “So it <em> was </em> you.”</p><p>Ethan shrugs. “What can I say? You’re welcome.”</p><p>Buffy punches him.</p><p>“Ow!” He grips his nose. “Buggering… what was that for?!”</p><p>“What did you do to Giles?!”</p><p>“I did you all a favor is what I did.”</p><p>“<em>Explain </em> or I hit you again,” Buffy threatens.</p><p>“Alright, alright. Don’t get your knickers in a twist.”</p><p>Willow comes in just as Buffy is contemplating hitting him again. “Oh good, you found him! Did he do it?”</p><p>Buffy walks around the desk and perches herself on the arm of Rupert’s chair, leaning against his shoulder. “He did it. He was just getting ready to tell us exactly what ‘it’ is.”</p><p>Willow drops into the chair next to Ethan and turns toward him expectantly. “Explain away.”</p><p>Ethan frowns. “As I said, I did you a favor.”</p><p>Buffy frowns back. “Still not making with the ‘splainy.”</p><p>Ethan rolls his eyes. “Do you have a copy of <em> Arantha’s Codex</em>?”</p><p>Willow jumps up. “Oh! Yeah. I just had it…” She rummages through a stack in front of the fireplace. “Here!” She passes it over to Ethan.</p><p>He flips toward the back of the book, skims a few pages, then passes it back to Willow. “Here.” He digs into his pocket and pulls out another sheet of paper and hands that over as well. “Pair it with this,” he gestures vaguely toward Rupert, “and you get that.”</p><p>Willow’s eyes go continually wider as she reads. “This… why?”</p><p>Ethan shrugs and speaks more softly than any of them have heard from him before. “I thought it might make up for some of the damage I’ve caused over the years.”</p><p>“Will?” Buffy prompts.</p><p>Willow looks up. “Right, um… he… this spell… he basically, I don’t even know how to explain this.”</p><p>“I gave him my life… whatever was left of it,” Ethan says quietly.</p><p>“It can’t be reversed,” Willow adds.</p><p>Buffy’s jaw drops. “Why?”</p><p>Ethan shrugs and won’t meet anyone’s eyes. “Regardless of the regrettable way things have gone over the years, Ripper is the best friend I have ever had. His life would have been different, likely happier, without my influence. You were right, Slayer, that Nevada was not kind to me. But it did me good. Brought certain things into perspective. This… gift was the only way I could think of to make up for my actions. To give him a chance at the life he might have had if it weren’t for me.”</p><p>“Why the memory wipe?” Willow asks.</p><p>“Honestly? I had hoped to hole up and die in peace before my part in it was discovered. The memory issues are a temporary block. It will lift with my death. Ripper would have remembered everything, including what I did.”</p><p>Buffy frowns. “What about…”</p><p>“What about what?” Ethan asks, amusement glimmering in his eyes.</p><p>Buffy waves between herself and Giles a little helplessly.</p><p>“The fact that Buffy suddenly wants to climb Giles like a tree and he seems totally on board with the idea,” Willow supplies helpfully.</p><p>Buffy blushes. “Yeah, that.”</p><p>Ethan chuckles and shrugs. “I may have sprinkled in a bit of… awareness. Of compatibility and such. Didn’t put anything there that wasn’t already there on its own if that’s what you’re worried about.”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>“So, no side effects of the bad?” Willow asks.</p><p>Ethan smiles, a brittle, bittersweet thing. “Not for any of you.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>As soon as they walk into his apartment, Rupert trades his slacks and button up back out for jeans and a tee shirt. “Is it awful that even with my memories back I’d rather go back to my jeans and band shirts?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buffy grins. “I’m not complaining.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rupert startles. “You still… even though I… I mean…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buffy rolls her eyes. “Yes, I still want to jump your bones… if you want me to?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He groans. “Oh, bloody hell, yes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buffy grins and pushes him down onto the couch, then plants herself in his lap, leaning over him slowly. “You know, eventually I think we might have done this anyway.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh?” He asks, lips barely brushing hers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buffy hums teasingly. “Mhm… I’ve always been able to count on you. And you were pretty hot for an old guy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His hands curl around her waist. “I’ll show you old.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door slams open, immediately followed by a startled exclamation from Xander. “Woah! Come on, Buff! Put a sock on the door! And in Giles’ apartment, really?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buffy buries her face in Rupert’s shoulder to hide both her laugh and her blush.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She feels Rupert grinning into her hair. “Would you like to tell him or shall I?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You, definitely you,” Buffy mutters.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am</span>
  </em>
  <span> Giles.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Xander laughs. “Funny. Next?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buffy turns enough to glare at Xander, then looks up at Rupert and laughs, because his expression is a total Giles Look on a thirty years younger face and she can tell from Xander’s expression that he recognizes that fact.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Giles?” Xander all but squeaks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Xander,” Rupert returns evenly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Young. Weird. And making out with Buffy and… what?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buffy nuzzles into Rupert’s neck. “Do me a favor and go ask Willow and leave us alone?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Xander smacks a hand over his good eye. “Oh, God, can you </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span> stop nibbling on Giles’ neck?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you left, you wouldn’t have to see it,” Rupert tells him, a little breathlessly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t unsee, or unhear, any of this you know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then leave,” Buffy repeats.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And lock the door behind you,” Rupert adds.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Buffy wakes late the next morning, curled into Rupert’s bare chest, and can’t help but smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good morning,” he greets her softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She kisses his chest. “Good morning. Been awake long?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shrugs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you thinking about?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What Ethan said, about compatibility awareness.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And I really do feel like I ought to have thanked him. I don’t… before, even if I had been willing to admit my attraction to you, I never would have acted on it. You deserved better than a man more than twice your age who… you deserved better. You still do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I deserve to be happy. And loved.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You make me feel both of those.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Buffy-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” she props herself up on his chest using her elbow. “I mean it. There are so few people in this world that I trust, or that really know me, or that I feel safe with, and… I don’t know if this ever would’ve happened before, but now…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now… what now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We keep going. However we want.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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